


Half a Bag of Crisps

by DarkFairytale



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: A child being underfed/underweight, Backstory, Callum is an honorary Carter, Child Neglect, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, M/M, hunger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22978603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkFairytale/pseuds/DarkFairytale
Summary: “Hey babe?” Ben asks Callum.“Yeah?” Callum’s not looking at him; he’s distracted and focused on opening up the packet of crisps in a way that they can both share them.“Why’s Mick give you crisps all the time? Most of the time he don’t even make you pay for them.”Callum ducks his head immediately and the tops of his cheeks pink a little in the way that Ben still finds far too endearing. “He’s done it since I was a kid.”
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell, Mick Carter & Callum "Halfway" Highway, Whitney Dean/Callum "Halfway" Highway
Comments: 10
Kudos: 173





	Half a Bag of Crisps

**Author's Note:**

> I've been rewatching Callum's early episodes on EE and I loved his storylines with the Carters and how much they clearly all care for him and love him. So this story was inspired by Mick's being all protective and parental of Callum when Stuart first turned up, Callum eating a lot of crisps while working behind the bar, Linda offering him some in one scene when he comes back from the army, and just the general mention/stories of the Carters & Highways when they were younger.  
> I may have taken some liberties with the Carter history timeline. Please forgive. Any/all errors my own.
> 
> Plus the idea of writing kid!Callum was TOO CUTE to resist.

Mick looks up as Lee and Halfway come tearing into the pub, back from school, with Nancy shouting after them. Halfway runs into a table half way across the room but carries on undeterred. Mick's not surprised. Halfway’s one of the clumsiest kids he’s ever known. Heart of gold, though.

“Hold up, where’s the fire?” Mick shouts after them as they round the corner of the bar and into the back, Nancy in pursuit. He can hear them stampeding up the stairs, hollering at each other. He can also hear L start berating them as soon as they make it to the top. Mick grins to himself for a moment, shaking his head and reminiscing on all the times he and Stuart had gotten into trouble; to see his own son and Stuart’s little brother acting the same way, well, Mick’s a nostalgic kind of guy.

The grin drops quickly though, because Mick hasn’t failed to notice that Halfway is looking particularly skinny lately. He doubts it is just because of another growth spurt. When L comes back down to the bar, it doesn't take much for Mick to persuade her to let Halfway stay for dinner, because L's noticed it too.

“Thanks for letting me stay for dinner Mrs C, Mick!” Halfway thanks them jovially around the fishfingers, chips and peas he is shovelling into his mouth.

Mick waves his thanks aside. “Just remember to breathe between your mouthfuls, boy.”

Halfway ducks his head sheepishly, blushing as he swallows his latest mouthful. He slows down after that, chattering happily with Lee and Nancy while L tries to encourage Johnny to eat his peas.

Mick can’t help but subtly compare the physical differences between Halfway and Lee. Halfway’s older by a few months and he’s already a little taller than Lee, and naturally gangly, but his wrists are just a little too thin, his face a little too hollow for a growing boy. Not that Halfway seems bothered, smiling away without a care in the world. But that’s the problem; Stuart’s always said that Halfway’s the kind of kid that either doesn’t notice the bad stuff in the world or just lets it slide off him. And Mick knows that Stuart, despite his many, many faults, does look after his little brother as much as he can – lord knows Stuart is more of a father figure to Halfway than Jonno is – but Stuart ain’t always around. Stuart likes to go out drinking, he gets into arguments with Jonno and disappears for a day or two, and he can’t drag Halfway around with him. It’s why Mick and L always ask Halfway to stay for lunch or dinner if he’s around. He’s a good boy. And they want to make sure he gets fed.

Mick shows the kid out while his own three pile on the sofa to watch TV.

“Thanks again for having me for dinner Mick,” Halfway smiles up at him, all wide, earnest eyes, and ears sticking out from under his little beanie hat.

Shirl calls him ‘Halfwit’ because he’s a little dopey, but then Mick’s sister hasn’t always been the most receptive to the kind of happy-go-lucky attitude Halfway gives off in spades.

How this kid can possibly be Jonno’s offspring, Mick has no idea. He radiates innocence and happiness and good humour. Though Mick ain’t blind, and he knows Stuart does shield Halfway from a lot of Jonno’s antisocial, abusive behaviour. Not all of it though. It’s why Mick worries that Halfway’s either letting the bad stuff just slide off him like water off a plucky little duck’s back, or he’s so used to it that he hasn’t yet noticed that his family home ain’t quite normal. Mick doesn’t think Halfway’s suffering behind a brave face; the kid is a terrible liar and is prone to blushing when on the spot, so if that was the case Mick would know.

“You doing alright, boy?” Mick asks.

“Course Mick,” Halfway says, like he always says.

“You had lunch today?”

Halfway’s eyes flick away, which means he’s trying to think of how to lie. “Course I did!” He also looks up to the left when he lies. Either he hasn’t had anything in the house for a packed lunch, or didn’t have the money to buy himself a meal at school.

Mick pretends he’s believed him, like he always does. “You want some crisps for the road?”

Halfway’s eyes light up. “Yes please!”

Mick grins and ruffles Halfway’s hat, knocking it askew. “Alright then, good boy, go grab yourself a bag or two, alright?”

***

The crisp thing is a common ploy that Mick uses to make sure Halfway’s eating at least _something_ , even if it ain't always fruit and veg;

“You staying for dinner Halfway?” Mick catches Halfway on his journey between the pub toilets and the street outside, where Lee and some of their mates are having a kickabout with a football.

“If that’s alright?” Halfway smiles at him. The t-shirt he's wearing is too big for him. It's practically hanging off him. 

“Sure it is,” Mick says. “You want some crisps to keep ya going until then?”

“Nah, I’m alright for now thanks Mick,” Halfway says, but then Mick can see the cogs in Halfway’s brain start turning. “Though, I could save them for later…”

“Here ya are then, catch!” Mick throws Halfway a bag of crisps.

The crisp thing is a common occurrence because Halfway hasn’t caught on that the easily accessible pub snack that he assumes Mick offers out to everybody, is actually Mick making sure he gets fed. Halfway’s got as much pride as Stuart has and if he knew Mick’s plan he would turn the crisps down. But for now he remains oblivious, and Mick tries not to think that that packet of crisps might be joining a stash of crisps that Halfway keeps in his house as a ration for when there’s nothing else, or that that packet of crisps may well become Halfway’s breakfast or lunch, if Jonno’s AWOL and Stuart’s gone on a bender and forgotten to buy milk or bread or cereal again; it wouldn’t be the first time.

***

“Mick,” Halfway answers the door with a pleased but surprised grin. “What ya doing here?”

“I’m looking for Stu,” Mick says. He’s keen to get in the house; Jonno keeps a couple of real nasty dogs that he found stray and trained up to act as guard dogs. They like to chase Mick something fierce. “He owes me a pint. He around?”

“Yeah, I think he’s asleep though,” Halfway opens the door wider to let Mick in. “I wouldn’t try and wake him up though, he don’t always like that.”

“Nah I bet he don’t. Like a grizzly bear in the morning ain’t he?”

“He sure is,” Halfway laughs. “Can I get ya anything?” he gestures lamely around their tiny kitchen. “You always have me to stay for dinner, I can return the favour,” Halfway decides brightly, and turns to start opening some cupboards, before quickly closing them again before Mick can see inside. “I think there’s some baked beans that I could…”

“You’re a good kid, Halfway,” Mick says. The poor little bugger’s only ten. “I’ve eaten, but thanks, maybe next time yeah?”

“Ok,” Halfway looks a little relieved. “I can get ya a beer though? Plenty of them in the fridge.”

“Yeah sounds good,” Mick says, and when one is placed before him he reaches out to pat Halfway’s shoulder. “Thanks lad.”

They hear a crash from upstairs and Stuart loudly grumbling about something. Guess he’s finally awake.

“Your dad not in?” Mick asks. He doesn’t like Jonno and doesn’t really want to run into him.

“Nah,” Halfway says, scuffing his shoe on the floor. He doesn’t offer an explanation to his dad’s whereabouts. Maybe he doesn’t actually know.

“What ya getting up to today?” Mick asks, cracking open the beer. “Enjoying your weekend?”

Halfway perks up, “I’m going to play football with Lee and the others!”

“Oh yeah, Lee did tell me that,” Mick says.

“Hey hang about!” Halfway exclaims, snapping his fingers, his train of thought having clearly jumped right off the conversation. “Wait here!”

The kid disappears and Mick waits patiently for him to come back. When he does, Halfway’s smiling triumphantly and he slams a bag of crisps down in front of Mick. Mick immediately recognises the brand as the ones he sells in the pub, and realises that his previous assumption was correct; Halfway stashes some of the crisps he gives him in case of emergency.

“Thanks Halfway,” Mick says, “But I’m honestly not hungry. What about you though, eh? Gotta keep your strength up for footie!”

“I suppose,” Halfway replies hesitantly, taking the bag of crisps and opening it. He does immediately offer it towards Mick though, “Want one? Or two! As many as ya want!”

Mick ain’t going to be rude. “Thanks,” Mick grins, and takes a couple of crisps out of the bag. He has never, ever seen Halfway share food before. He considers himself privileged.

A moment later Stuart stumbles into the kitchen; “Mick! What you doing here?” he announces loudly and jovial-manically, before wrapping his arm playfully around Halfway’s neck. “Mornin’ little bruv. Hey, where’d ya get these?” he digs his hand into the crisp packet and pulls out a decent handful.

Halfway looks like he doesn’t mind in the slightest. “Hey Stu,” Halfway smiles up at his older brother.

Stuart ruffles Halfway’s hair in thanks as he shoves the crisps into his mouth. “Now,” he says around them, “Me and Mick’ve got some drinking to do.” He shoves his hand in his pocket and pulls out several notes. “Little bruv, want to go get us some food?”

Halfway immediately perks up, “Sure thing Stu! I can do that! Thanks!” he takes the money and leaves almost immediately.

“Good kid,” Stuart says thoughtfully – more to himself than Mick – as he watches the door Halfway’s just disappeared through. “Too soft though.”

“Nah, he’s alright,” Mick counters.

Mick’s not surprised when Halfway comes back with not only snacks for Stuart and Mick, but also necessities like bread and milk.

***

When Halfway turns eleven, Mick gives him a football as a birthday present. There’s only so long that he can watch the kid kick about crisp packets folded up into little triangles.

Halfway looks like it’s the best thing he’s ever received.

***

A lot’s changed in fifteen years. They are in a different part of London. They are in a different pub.

Shirl (who caused the fire in the pub they had back when the kids were young) is actually Mick’s mother and not his sister.

Mick and L now have their baby Ollie. Lee, Nancy and Johnny are all grown up and doing their own thing away from Walford.

And Halfway’s all grown up too. And he’s a hero. A real and proper hero. Mick knows the full story now; about Halfway’s friend losing his legs and that while Halfway saved the kids, their mother died. But that don’t mean that Halfway ain’t a hero. Halfway gave Mick and L the money to help them keep the pub. Halfway’s served his country, just like Lee has.

It’s also nice having the kid around (Stuart’s come back into their lives too, and Mick’s beginning to think that maybe calling Stuart and inviting him to Halfway’s party was a mistake). Halfway’s been working behind the bar and in the pub kitchen since he’s been back from the army. He’s caused plenty of smoke alarms to go off, and Mick’s caught him watering fake plants in the flat, but the food he makes is delicious – he was in catering in the army – and his heart’s still always in the right place. A lot has changed, but Halfway being a good egg will never change (and Mick will always be adamant about that. No accidental-bullet scar on his arm is going to ever make him think otherwise).

And Mick’s still giving him bags of crisps. That ain’t changed either. 

Halfway’s staying in the pub with Mick and L, in the room they promised they’d always keep for him (Mother was _pissed off_ that she had to give up her room, but Halfway is among the rare few that Mick’s mother actually likes enough to let it eventually slide _)_. Halfway contributes to the groceries, and Mick sees him eat plenty. Mick knows that Halfway is grown up, has a good diet, is a great cook and can afford any food he wants. Halfway’s his own man now; dating Whitney, working full time. He’s been to _war_. But Mick still can’t stop offering him crisps.

To be fair to himself, though, L’s been doing it too:

“Do you want crisps with that?” L asks Halfway as Mick slides a pint to him over the bar.

“Nah I’m…I’m fine Mrs C,” Halfway smiles politely. Whitney’s standing next to him, watching him fondly.

“Oh, go get him some crisps, Mick,” L instructs Mick, before turning straight back to Halfway, “Or a sandwich! Did you want a sandwich? Got to look after our little hero haven’t we?”

Look, damn it, they are just proud, alright?

And habits die hard.

They make sure Halfway knows he has permission to help himself to crisps whenever he’s on a shift.

***

More changes over the year after that.

Halfway’s come out as gay, and Mick has never seen him so comfortable in himself, so much more confident and at ease. He also dresses a lot better. The hats have gone. So has the haircut.

Halfway’s got himself a job at the funeral parlor and rents the flat above it, where he currently lives with Stuart and Rainie. Halfway’s also dating Ben Mitchell. Mick had been damn proud the day the pair of them confirmed themselves boyfriends in his pub; Mick and Pam grinning like proud parents at the bar. 

Because of all that has changed in Halfway's life, the Carters do see less of him and Mick does miss having him around so much. But Halfway still comes round for dinner with Mick, L, Tina, Mother and Ollie at least once a month. Ollie adores him, because Halfway is patient and genuinely acts like Ollie’s clocks are the most fascinating things whenever Ollie tells him about them.

“Halfway, my son!” Mick grins as Halfway enters the pub, Ben Mitchell right beside him, giving the day’s punters a cursory scan; it’s either because of the usual perils of being a Mitchell and having enemies, or it’s because Ben’s only very recently had some of the hearing he temporarily lost in the boat – jesus, Mick hates to think of that night – crash return to him.

Halfway beams at Mick as he always does, and comes straight to the bar so Mick can lean over it and clasp a hand to his arm in greeting. “Hey Mick,” Halfway’s still smiling at him.

“What will it be, lads?” Mick asks.

Halfway turns his smile on Ben; though it changes into something more private and adoring – Mick ain’t blind – and tells him this round’s on him.

Mick gets the boys their pints. He honestly doesn’t realise he’s slid over a bag of crisps as well until he’s charged Halfway for just the drinks.

Halfway just thanks him with an ever-polite “Cheers, Mick,”, seemingly still oblivious to Mick’s near two-decades of providing him packets of crisps, for various and long-standing reasons.

Mick watches as Halfway takes both drinks and the bag of crisps, and after Ben signs something to him and Halfway nods – because even though Ben’s more recently lost hearing has somewhat returned now, the pair of them clearly still use sign as a quick and private form of communication – they head to the table Ben has apparently chosen for them.

Mick carries on watching as Halfway and Ben sit on opposite sides of the table and start talking quietly as Halfway immediately opens the packet of crisps and starts easing a tear from the corner of the packet down and along its edges until its lying on the table between them, acting as a silver foil tray so that he and Ben can share the crisps.

Mick has never seen Halfway share crisps like this before with anyone. Damn, it must be love.

And Mick? Mick finds himself feeling proud of Halfway once again. Hell, he loves Halfway like he’s his own son. Maybe that’s what the crisps are about now, these days: it’s his way of showing Halfway that he loves him and that he still cares about him even though he doesn’t see him as much; one of the many ways Mick shows him that he has designated him as an honorary son.

And some habits are also just really hard to break, he supposes.

And maybe there’s just something wrong with his old nut, because as sweet as watching Halfway share those crisps with his boyfriend is, apparently the knowledge that Halfway is only going to be eating half of that bag of crisps is bothering Mick. Some really old habits are _really_ damn hard to break.

***

“Hey babe?” Ben asks Callum.

“Yeah?” Callum’s not looking at him; he’s distracted and focused on opening up the packet in a way that they can both share them.

“Why’s Mick give you crisps all the time?” Ben’s wondered about this for months now but has never thought to ask until now. He’s always assumed it’s because Mick considers Callum an honorary Carter, and therefore likes to treat him. But Ben’s curious enough to find out for sure. “Most of the time he don’t even make you pay for them.”

Callum ducks his head immediately and the tops of his cheeks pink a little in the way that Ben still finds far too endearing. “He’s done it since I was a kid.” Callum shrugs. “When I was little, too young to get a weekend job and make my own money or anything like that, my dad and Stu…they weren’t always around. Dad was often – well, wherever he was – and Stu had to work, and had a life of his own, you know? And sometimes there wouldn’t be…” Callum looks down and fidgets his fingers. He lifts his shoulder in another shrug, “Sometimes there weren’t always food in the house.”

Ben knows what Callum had looked like as a kid. He’s seen pictures. Not many exist, but Stuart’s actually done the whole parent-showing-the-new-partner-kid-pics thing with him, which was both horrifying and hilarious in equal measure; horrifying, because Stuart trying to bond with him while Ben was still totally deaf was truly torture; hilarious because there were photos of Stuart with hair. But little Callum, he was adorable; his scruffy hair and little ears poking out from under his hat; big doe-like eyes and a heart-warming smile even then. But he had also looked a little too skinny. So Ben is actually able to picture Callum as a child and the days where he didn’t have enough to eat and went hungry. It makes his heart ache.

But Ben knows that Callum would be embarrassed if he knew Ben was feeling sorry for him; and Ben knows better than most that it isn’t pleasant to think back to childhood traumas and unhappiness (Stella, as a prime example of Ben's own reluctance to linger too long on these kinds of things). So all he does is offer Callum a small smile and he reaches out to cover Callum’s fidgeting hands with his own to encourage his man to make eye contact with him and continue his story. Which Callum does, because he’s really changed so much over the last year; his strength and his confidence just growing and glowing.

“Anyway,” Callum continues, “I guess Mick noticed. Him and Mrs C always asked me to stay for dinner several nights a week, and he used to always make sure I ate a packet of crisps when I was there, or take one or two home with me. He thinks I never realised why he did it. I think he wanted me to think that because it was a pub snack and they had boxes full of them, that I wasn’t the only person he casually offered them to. But I always knew he was looking out for me and making sure I was eating enough. Then him and Mrs C carried on doing it when I came back from the army; they said it was because I was a 'hero' and because I helped them afford to keep the pub. And now I guess it’s just habit; he does it automatically.”

“That’s really sweet, babe,” Ben tells him, and he means it. “I’m glad that you have the Carters.”

“Me too," a big, soft smile grows on Callum's face. It's a beautiful thing. "They’ve always been so good to me. I love Stu, you know I do, but it’s just the two of us; we never had a big family. The Carters always made me feel like part of a bigger family, even though it took me a long time to realise that I wasn’t actually overstaying my welcome.”

“You could never overstay your welcome, Callum,” Ben reassures him, tracing his finger over the back of Callum’s hand. It was something he and Callum had started doing when Ben had completely lost his hearing; tracing words on each other’s skin. “The Carters clearly love you – even Shirley – and so does everyone else. And you know that me, Lexi, Lola and Jay…we’re your family too now, right?”

Although Ben has told him this many times already, Callum still gets this look of absolute wonderment, like he still can’t quite fathom the privilege of being included in their little family.

“Hey, do you think we could charm another bag of crisps out of Mick tonight?” Ben asks teasingly, eyebrow quirking mischievously. “We’ve already finished this one and I’m still hungry.”

Callum just laughs and shakes his head. “I ain’t gunna take advantage of…”

“Oi! Callum!” Mick hollers at them before he can finish, throwing another bag of crisps to him from across the bar. “On the ‘ouse!”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! And this was my first foray into writing EE fic and Ballum! I cannot belieeeeve.  
> I may end up writing more Ballum content because they are SOULMATES gosh darnit.


End file.
